Why He Wasn't There
by KiwiSWFan
Summary: An explanation for Harry's absence from the funeral that we all know he would have attended. Disclaimer: I own nobody! The BBC owns everybody.


**This started off as my take on why Harry didn't make it to the funeral because we all know he wouldn't have missed it through choice. It ended up covering a bit more than that. Enjoy reading. Reviews are always welcome! Thanks!**

You sit there. Numb. Alone.

Jack had fussed for a while but then realised you simply wanted time to be alone with Leo. Your hand rested lightly on the bodybag. Now you could be alone with your memories.

The chaos of the previous few hours had calmed down. The Afghan police had not conducted what you would call an enquiry but then you find, you don't really care at the moment. You just want him back. _Leo_. The last remaining member of your makeshift Lyell 'family' following Harry's departure.

Shit. Harry. _Harry_.

You had to call him. You search desperately for your phone, not knowing where you left it. Finally, you realise it was in your jeans pocket when _IT _had happened. You don't know what had happened to the phone afterwards. It was all a blur.

Breaking free of Jack, you had rushed to where Leo had been standing. Only to find very little of Leo remaining. You refused to leave the spot where he had been. Waiting until the police had let Jack remove the remains. You couldn't steel yourself to do it. Waiting until Leo was in a bodybag that you cradled close to yourself. Your clothes had become bloody and had undoubtedly been thrown away. You remember hearing Fawzia sobbing and the two of you being led away. Then you had just sat here as Jack had punched the wall repeatedly, screaming and yelling. You wish you could yell. Following that one piercing scream, nothing. Only calm.

Shaking yourself from your musings as you realise your phone is not in your bag. You rise slightly and look around, spotting a landline in the corner.

You are about to make the most difficult call of your life.

You dialled the number you had memorised without thinking when you'd seen his first email. It rang and rang and rang without a response.

You tried to let it go to answerphone but couldn't. This was not something to be said on a message.

You repeated this process 3, 4, 5 times. Eventually calling every ten minutes until finally, you cracked and you let it go to answerphone. As hard as you tried, you couldn't say anything just sobbing into the phone before hanging up.

And so you called back. This must have gone on for hours before you realise that Jack is back. Night had fallen. He wordlessly holds out your mobile and your packed bag.

You pick up your mobile and text Harry. "_We need to talk. It's Leo. I need you. x"_ You hope he'll call. But then you get the message undelivered sign.

You find it strange but give up for now. It'll be delivered when it can be.

You look up to find Jack still there. Looking haunted.

"They're sending a plane with… the necessary _things. _It will arrive soon. We'll be leaving at dawn. The police have said no-one is to know. The body will be loaded under cover of darkness and we leave at first light. Apparently, there's still a threat to us."

You nod, "They can't take anything else away from me anyway. All I had is gone."

"Nikki, I know I'm not… Leo or anyone that close to you, like the guy before me, but I am… here for you," he ventures quietly.

You nod, "Thanks. "

As he leaves, you whisper, "I don't have anyone close to me anymore. They've all left me."

And sobbing, you returned to the corner where he lay and you let your memories wash over you. Memories of him and Harry and you. Nights playing cards at the office, Friday night after-work drinks, looking at zebras in Africa. The evening when he had got his MBE (Harry mocking him and you giggling, Leo sitting there in quiet good-natured frustration, shaking his head at your childishness.) The three musketeers. That's who you were. For all your squabbles and tense moments, the three of you had been a family. You remember that last dreadful time when you thought you'd lost him. You and Harry sitting by his bed, you trying to read out that list. Slowly a smile spreads across your face. Yes, there had been hurt but he had brought you so much happiness, so much support and so much _love_.

Your memories wander to the christening only days ago. Love is what remains of us. You weren't sure you believed in love and religion. Not with your past. Now, Leo has shown you that it does exist. Yet another lesson Leo taught you.

Suddenly, you realise that there are people standing next to you. You hadn't even heard the plane arrive but they are there with a bloody big coffin. They try to take the bodybag but you refuse. "Where's Fawzia? We'll do it." Jack pushes the men back and heads out the room, returning minutes later with Fawzia.

She understands what you want and you carefully place his remains in the coffin together. Then you close the coffin, kissing it gently before leaving Fawzia to spend her last precious few hours with the man she'd lost. At least you had spent 8 wonderful years in his company.

"Right, I'm Dr Alexander. What needs doing?" You're back in control. No-one, no-one notices your trembling hands. There is no-one left who knows you that well.

Forms signed, the coffin is loaded just before dawn.

You insist on accompanying him in the cargo hold. Jack has given up remonstrating with you. You notice a couple of the security guards nursing bruises but decide that you don't need to know.

You try Harry once again before leaving, leaving a coherent message this time. "Harry. It's me. It's Leo. He's dead. A suicide bomber. He saved everyone's lives." Again your calm threatens to break. "Well, you're obviously busy. I'll call you with funeral details once I'm back in London." You hang up. Well, that was even worse than you'd imagined.

Sitting in the plane on the way back, you sink into a deep hole, falling, falling. The tears fall without your noticing. You have to be in control from the moment you arrive in London.

And you are. You manage the MOD's questions, the university's questions and endless procedures, the meeting with Lambert's brother. You clear Leo's desk as requested by the uni. (The policy is 48 hours.) You solve that one by putting almost everything in a box (bar that one photo of the 3 of you and one book) and put it on top of the box containing Harry's belongings, as yet unsorted. The book you flick through and take home to read. The photo you slip inside your purse. You cannot stand to be without either of them now.

You organise a funeral, notifying Leo's many friends and acquaintances. The hardest is the call to Janet. She breaks down almost immediately but says she will be there.

You rely on Jack and Clarissa to run the lab temporarily. It briefly crosses your mind that maybe it's your turn to go in a few weeks. The lab was too full of memories for you to stay.

And every hour of every day you try Harry. You worry that something's wrong but even when you phone NYU, they cannot give you any information. Information about members of staff cannot be given out to the general public. Security policy. _Security? General public?_

You email Harry (having kept every one of his emails, even if you didn't reply after the first courteous reply.) You give him the date of the funeral. Suggest he may want to make a eulogy too.

The day of the funeral arrives and the one bit of hope that he would come dies in you as you realise that he doesn't have the time to fly here now.

You sit at the front of the church alone. Jack and Clarissa, worn and heavy-eyed in the row behind. Janet slips in late and sits at the back. You survey the congregation and wonder how _he_ could miss this.

You give your eulogy, pulling out the book that you had found. Sly old Leo. That quote had come from a poem. You conclude "Our almost-instinct almost true: What will survive of us is love." You are aware of the tears that you can't control as you return to your seat.

Jack and Clarissa look devastated and your eyes meet Janet's. She is heart-broken. There is sniffling and sobbing across the church. A testament to how Leo touched everyone's lives.

Yet all you can think of is how Harry should be here as you follow the coffin down the aisle and stand by his graveside. You have arranged for him to be buried with Teresa and Cassie, where he belongs.

You email Harry with the details of the grave. And then you delete him from your address book. At the end of the day, you've tried every method of communication to no avail. Except post. So you write him a letter. It could be called a love letter really and you post it to his NY address.

One day, two weeks later, you've had an horrendous day at work and you miss Leo. You need to talk to him. So, you decide to return to the grave. Jack insists on accompanying you, at least to give you a ride. Clarissa chiming in that you shouldn't be driving anyway. You give in to get them off your back but ask Jack to wait in the car.

You think about how things have changed. You're barely coping at work, which is now cold, oh so cold. You hate thought of sitting in Leo's office. Jack has changed. No more joking, no more anger. Just passivity. Clarissa's sarcasm has all but disappeared. The Lyell is no longer the same.

As you approach the grave, you notice that someone has watered the flowers from the previous week and laid some new ones.

You stare at the flowers. There's _something_ about them you recognise. Then it hits you. They are from the same florist's that you, Harry and Leo had always used following your arrival at the Lyell. Funny how someone else should have discovered it.

You kneel by the grave and talk to Leo. Somehow it's cathartic. Just telling him news, how much you miss him. The news of your life (non-existent bar a 3 am call to check on little _Molly_. You haven't forgiven him for escaping that one._)_. The news that his changes have reaped rewards. The Lyell budget was raised at this morning's funding review. They have offered you a professorship and suggested that the increased funding would be best spent on another pathology professor and a lab assistant. A tacit acknowledgement that you, Leo, are irreplaceable and a shared tenureship would be a nice, clean break. No direct replacement. The meeting this morning had angered you. "_Had you thought about training someone, Dr. Alexander?" _Yes, you bloody well had. You had always wanted to mentor younger pathologists, help them through their training as had Leo. It was the lack of funding that had stopped you. You tell him you're not sure about accepting the professorship. That without him and Harry, there's nothing left for you at the Lyell or even in London, maybe even in England. That maybe, just maybe, it was time to return to South Africa. You wonder how you ended up oh so alone and you tell him that he was wrong. _You did need a father figure_. Yes, Fawzia had told you that too in a letter. You tell him everything and feel much better. There's only one small, well giant, thing nibbling away at you inside. _Where was Harry?_ You suddenly realise you said that aloud too and are shocked to hear a reply. In that voice you know so well. "Here."

You hadn't noticed the tall, dark-haired figure far away in the distance who had broken into a run at the sight of you by the grave. You observe him as you rise slowly to your feet. He had evidently been standing there for some time. Tears are rolling down his cheeks. He is thin. So very thin. He looks ill. You approach him, aware that he is eying you uncertainly.

You hit him, once, twice in the chest and then realise you can feel his bones. He's _that_ thin. You stop and lean in and finally, finally, you cry for the first time since the eulogy.

He holds you silently rubbing your back and you can feel his tears, his sobbing too.

You stand there for a long time like that. He then pulls back.

"We need to talk. There's… I couldn't… I was…"

You simply nod, holding out your hand. "Harry. I knew you had a reason not for coming. You would never have missed this without good reason."

He looks at you uncertainly and slips his hand in yours. Still the perfect fit. "I wasn't sure what you thought. To be honest, you never answered my emails. I thought you hated me."

You stare at the ground. "I never hated you. I love you too much for that. But I loved you so much, I couldn't keep in touch." You're sick of the pretences and everything. To hell with it. His departure had hurt but you had partially driven him away. Never told him how you felt even when you had the opportunity.

He looks at you sadly, "My leaving was supposed to change that. Another spectacular screw-up in my failure of a life." The bitterness shocks you and you reach up and hold his face in your hands. "Harry, what happened?"

He takes off his coat, laying it on the ground next to the grave. "It's a long story. But this, this is a fitting place to tell you. With Leo."

You smile and nod, understanding. Encouraging him to continue.

"I've, I've been in South America. I flew out two days before your call for a conference. There was a fire in the building. I was caught inside, trying to, trying to rescue someone. I got caught and I couldn't get out. The firemen eventually got to me but I'd hit my head. I dunno. I ran a fever for weeks. I hadn't been overly well beforehand… " His voice trailed off…

"Clearly, you've not been eating right or anything. You're so THIN. You… fool!." You're trying to make him smile but it falls flat.

"Takes one to know one. I've never seen you so slender either. And I know that you were already not doing that well before…" His voice trails off again…

"How…? Leo!" You turn your glare from Harry to the grave and back. You realise the ridiculousness of glaring at Leo and your lip starts to tremble before you burst into laughter. Harry joining in. The first time you've properly laughed since… well since Harry left. You hadn't been yourself these last six months and you knew it. You lean into Harry and breathe in his familiar scent.

"Nikki, I was never happy in New York. I left to leave you room to be happy. I thought that I… I would destroy you if I stayed here. All I ended up doing was nearly destroying both of us."

Silence reigns for a while, along with the soft cooing of a pigeon. You didn't have pigeons in South Africa and had been entranced by their cooing upon your arrival in England as a teenager. One of the most soothing sounds you know.

."Nikki, I only got back to New York last week and found all your missed calls, messages and your letter. My mobile didn't work while I was away." You lean and smooth away a stray tear.

"He knows. He would have understood your absence." You change topic swiftly, " How much did you hear earlier…?"

"Oh I arrived about the time you were ranting about _Molly_. I guess you were right on that one too? Leo told me about that too… He kept me alive these last few months with his news of him and you."

"So you heard about… the shared tenureship? Could we make it work?"

He nods. "I'm certain we could. I was only in NY for six months initially although obviously my illness has extended that by a couple of months. But are you sure? I've almost destroyed you, our friendship and everything. Once we're committed, we're in it for the long-haul and, well, please be sure."

"Firstly, you did not nearly destroy us all by yourself. I am capable of answering emails but thought that shutting you out was safer. More fool me. I want this more than anything. I want us. And I know that Leo wanted this too. I'm sure he's dancing up there shouting 'Hallelujah!'. God what he must have suffered over the years.!"

Harry chuckles in agreement and leans in, "Good, because I want this too!" He kisses you gently for a few minutes. Then pulls you up.

Holding you safely under his arm as he has done so, so many times before, he stands in front of the grave and talks. He says his own "goodbyes" to Leo as you hold him tight. Holding him like the time he held you in that hospital. Like you, he concludes that it's NOT goodbye because Leo is with you always. As he said himself: Our almost-instinct almost true: What will survive of us is love.

You then head back to the car as you guiltily remember Jack who waves away your explanations, showing his newspaper and greets Harry warmly. You wonder how much Jack has guessed or heard whispered round the lab in the past.

You suggest a drinks and dinner the following evening, Friday, in roder to discuss old memories, relax and let you move on. Jack and Clarissa agree. The evening is a success as they warmly accept Harry as your friend. You spend your evening telling stories about the old times and you find that it is cathartic.

A few days later you call a meeting intending to broach the ideas raised at the funding committee with Jack and Clarissa but you're blindsided.

"Nikki?"

"It would seem that we're down a professor and it would seem that Handsome Harry and you are… together…"

You simply raise an eyebrow. Evidently Clarissa's sarcasm was only in abeyance.. "Spit it out, Clarissa!"

"Open your eyes and offer him a job. Any job!"

Jack nods in agreement and you smile.

"Well, the intention of this meeting was to tell you that our funding is being increased and we can stretch to two professorships…I was wanting your opinion before putting Harry forward for one. I have been offered the other.

They both nod their agreement and offer their congratulations. You finally, only now, feel a weight lift off your shoulders. Maybe this is doable. Maybe life is liveable again.

You set the wheels in motion for the necessary changes and within two months you and Harry are living and working together. Harry and you discuss long and hard before restructuring the department slightly. You develop a mentoring side and add a couple of forensic anthropology modules that will be primarily your responsibility and Harry will manage the strict pathology side. You both carry out the post-mortems but the division makes sense. It avoids a conflict of interests and enables you to work together. The spark between you is still there and you will inevitably row as you always did in heated moments. It's what makes you who you are.

The university is pleased with your changes. Jack and Clarissa manage the forensics and the Lyell attracts more and more attention for its innovation and its ability to work across the spectrum of forensic sciences. Just as Leo wanted.

You sense Leo approves of your moves. All except one. You can imagine him shaking his head and asking, "Was it _really_ necessary to name it the Leo Dalton mentoring programme?"

Yes.


End file.
